Page 9 of Never Fall for a Dragon
His lips curved upward, just slightly. It was the tiniest hint of a smile, but the fire in his eyes burned brighter with it. “The master bathroom has soap and a towel.”
With that, his hand landed on the small of my back, and he led me into one of the bedrooms. I let him guide me, remaining quiet as we walked together.
There was a mattress on the floor, with dark gray blankets, sheets, and pillows askew. I thought it was odd that all of them were the same color, but he didn’t mention it as we walked past, so I didn’t ask.
In the connected bathroom, there was a towel hanging off a hook, and one bottle of four-in-one shower gel, shampoo, and who knew what else. There was an electric razor and a toothbrush on the countertop, but nothing else.
No shower mat.
No toothbrush.
“It’s very lived-in,” I said, before I could reconsider my sarcasm.
He chuckled, low and rough.
The sound gave me goosebumps.
“I don’t live here, Fireball. Or I didn’t, at least.”
“When can I go home?” I asked, and both of our amusement faded.
“In four weeks, after the fire leaves your veins.”
That was a long time to live with a stranger, while dealing with heat.
A long, long time.
I leaned against the edge of the bathroom countertop, putting space between us. The warmth in my body immediately increased when he wasn’t touching me, turning slowly into a slight ache that reminded me of soreness after a workout.
I hadn’t worked out in months, but the feeling wasn’t entirely foreign.
And it definitely wasn’t pleasant.
“I’ll have to let my friends know I’m okay. They’ll report me missing if I don’t show up this afternoon. I should ask them to bring my clothes, too,” I said.
“Everything at your place will smell like them. It’s not an option.”
My forehead creased. “What do I wear, then?”
“My clothes.”
I scowled. “I’m not spending a month in your clothes, August.”
“Then we’ll order new things.”
“Can’t we just wash everything?”
It was his turn to blink.
I held back a snort when I realized he was surprised by the option.
A moment passed before he agreed. “That’ll probably work. I’ll have to buy a washer and dryer too.”
Oh.
“If you don’t have the money,” I began.
“Money’s not an issue. If it was, my sister and her mate would insist on paying.” He took a step back, and slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. It was a casual motion, one that made him seem more… human, I guess. “Take your shower. I’ll put a set of my clothes outside the bathroom door, then make sure we’ll have a washer and dryer too.”
